


Where There’s A William, There’s A Laren.

by Gevar



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation, Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Humour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-10
Updated: 2016-12-10
Packaged: 2018-09-07 15:28:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8806243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gevar/pseuds/Gevar
Summary: It’s just so happens that she attracts danger like a magnet. Call it the Bajoran Charm. Never fails any Bajoran. Yet.





	

**Author's Note:**

> An AU where my three favourite Bajorans ended up as roommates in Starfleet Academy.

She’s not a thrill seeker. Whoever thought she’s into extreme sports had the intuition of a blind seer. It’s just so happens that she attracts danger like a magnet. Call it the Bajoran Charm. Never fails any Bajoran. Yet.

That’s why she chose the Kayak Club. She wanted to relax. Letting her boat drift across the calm sea. Or taking the reins when the weather decided it’s a club not for the weak-willed.

So, she liked a little ‘excitement’ in her activities. But not enough for her to want to join the skydiving club. Either way, she’s content with her chosen club. Even if the kayak club held their meetings by the beach.

When she reached at the aforementioned beach, there were others gathered in a half-broken circle. Humanoid species, mostly. Her eyebrows rose briefly at the sight of a Caitian. If a Caitian wanted to take a dip into the sea, Laren’s not going to question it.

In the centre of the circle, was _just_ a small kayak shack to mark the spot. A dingy shack that could barely hold less than a single a boat. Exactly what she needed to convince herself that she made the right decision. Instead of joining the bakery club.

A spiky dark-haired Terran male, no older than five years or less than her age, stepped into the middle. He had a muscular build, no doubt that’s why he wore a tight-fitting, sleeveless jersey that clung to his biceps, with the words “president” printed on the back.

Probably for showing off, like the Terran peacock. He’s not the first man who liked to show off his asset. He even looked like one who loved ladies and isn’t afraid to show people he minded the perception.

On top of his jersey, he wore dark sunglasses and a short white pants. Not standard outwork clothes that the academy provided. Well, one man wasn’t going to spoil her enjoyment of this club.

“The name is Bill. Call me only Bill, nothing stuffy like William,” he stated, with a military-strictness. “Definitely, don’t call me by my surname. I’m not a fifty year old man with a son. That’s my father.” Then he broke into a wide smile.

“Welcome to the kayak club, where your fear of water will go away or intensifies. Pray to your deities, or the powers above that the latter doesn’t come true.” He winked at the rest of them.

She scoffed at his comment. What a ridiculous notion to pray to a higher being to dissipate fear; prophets would rather answer a prayer for world peace than fear of water.

Laren stood, wedged between an Andorian and a Tellarite. She found herself offering prayers to the prophets for a Terran partner at least. Though she preferred to be a soloist.

She wasn’t being insensitive, but how the hell would a Tellarite paddle the oars. Then, she remembered a Tellarite has hooves that shaped like fingers, two large fingers to be exact. And they’re ambidextrous. Maybe, it’s not such a bad partnership.

The club president peered at the new recruits, he walked from one end to the other end. “So, do anyone here has a question about the kayak club?”

There were low murmurs, but no solid answer. Bill turned away from the newer recruits when Laren raised a hand. He whirled in a perfect circle and marched up to Laren. He stopped in front of her, lifting a caterpillar brow up.

“When do we start kayaking?” Laren questioned. Apparently, she was the only one who dared a breath out more than a word. A thousand eyes set on her. Laren pretended like the attention was nothing but a fleck of dust.

“At ease. We’re going to kayak … eventually.” He rubbed his hands together.

“But for now, it’s orientation time.” Bill carved a stupid grin on his lips and placed an arm around the Andorian next to her.

Laren could feel the Andorian’s muscles tensing immediately. He stood straight, in a manner Jaxa once described as “having a metaphorical rod shoved up in her ass”.

“Okay, since none of you have any _real_ questions. I’m just going to assume everyone here is a beginner. Let’s see how many newcomers we have this semester.” He let go of his arm and walked away from the Andorian, whose shoulders hunched in relief.

“Thirteen! It’s a record. We’re going to have so much _fun_ this semester!” Bill exclaimed, waving a hand at the shack.

He beckoned all of them to trail after him, as he walked away from the shack into a more deserted part of the beach. “Get ready for an impromptu physical test. Our first lesson of the day is there’s no tears in kayaking.”

“What?” was the only reaction Bill received from any of them. He didn’t bat an eyelid at their anticipated reactions, choosing to point a finger at a pole sticking out from the sand.

“Along the shoreline, there are several checkpoints where you must win this token. Grab the tokens to win a special privilege to kayak first.” He flipped the token up and caught it with his upturned palm.

Bill produced a white handkerchief out from his pocket and let it fell to the ground. “Go!”

Laren bolted. She ran ahead of the other members. It was easy. She’s fast on her feet. From there on, she wrestled a bag of sand, kicked a ball over the shack, and built a sandcastle among other activities.

Thank the prophets, neither Jaxa nor Celes had to bear witness of this humiliation. Come to think of it, this wasn’t bad as her short lived stint as a Bajoran Juliet in the Crusher Shakespeare Company. She suppressed a shudder.

Behind her, Skaas, the Andorian, smacked his head against a palm tree. She stifled a wince when her own feet snagged a rogue pine tree root. Grok, the Tellarite, wheezed when sand entered its snout, as a Brunali, Manu, aimed to kick sand instead of a ball.

Sweat dripped across her forehead, she slapped all the tokens into Bill’s open palm. Victory tasted so good. She bent over, clutching to her side and breathed deeply. As her fellow kayak recruits stumbled behind her.

Some started to crawl back to the shack. Others including Grok opted to lay flat in their backs and took the opportunity to sunbathe.

“Great, now that all of you have successfully tire out your body, it’s time to announce the winner!” Bill squinted across the high sun of San Francisco. He paced towards another Terran boy.

Bill poked the boy’s body with a branch. The body moved. Bill jumped backwards. Laren nearly doubled over an Orion girl who thought sea shells were more enticing than the offer of a kayak trip.

Bill scoped Morgan off from the sand, parading the shorter boy like a trophy. Disgusting. He was weaker than Celes, of all people. And that girl took an hour to finish a 1 km run.

“Congratulations! You won, Morgan,” said Bill, wrapping an arm around Morgan’s waist and hauled the boy to the shack.

Morgan’s jaw dropped. His blue eyes darted across the recruits, in particular, avoiding here. “M-me?”

The winner was him? Morgan managed to twist his ankle as he tripped over a Vulcan meditating nearby.

Morgan, the Terran boy who barely passed the first checkpoint. The sand bag proved to be a challenging opponent. He couldn’t lifted the bag and hold the bag for five minutes. Then twisted the ankle and stayed down.

Was all that hard-work a scam? Did he just chose another boy because he didn’t like her? She knew most held a cautious sentiment when it came to Bajorans. But still, that’s discrimination.

“Wait, you said we must get all the tokens,” Laren argued, straightening her spine. She resisted jabbing a finger to his well-made chest. Instead, she folded her arms across her chest.

She tilted her chin upwards, because Bill’s ridiculously tall, at six foot-something. It’s hard to maintain a glare when she knew how awkward she looked. But the crease on her wrinkled nose remained.

“Yes, but I didn’t say grab all the tokens,” Bill replied, shrugging.

“Of course, you didn’t. You’re too preoccupied with tormenting us,” she hissed. If Bill heard it, he was impressive not to let it show on his face.

“Now, if you don’t mind, Laren-”

“It’s Ro. Not Laren,” she responded sharply. Steely gaze set on him. She hoped the sun burned his tanned skin like a supernova licking his wounds. Or maybe Grok will pick a bone with him. She’s content on leaving Bill to fend off angry Tellarites or even that pissed Andorian, Skaas. However unlikely the scenario was.

“Lighten up. Kayak is not a competitive club. The sport is, but not my club,” he added, nothing in his tone made her believe his words. “If you can’t play nice, there are other clubs for you to explore.”

The smile on his face tightened, it made him looked like he’s constipated or something.

“Now, it’s time for us to celebrate. Gene, break out the coconuts from the mini-fridge,” Bill shouted, then turned his heels and dragged Morgan along to the mini-fridge. _Who the heck is Gene?_ Laren wondered.

It was only her first day in kayak club. All she could picture was the oar whacking Bill’s head repeatedly until he’s buried halfway down the ground.

* * *

Ro Laren stomped into the room, slamming the door behind her. Her short dark locks bouncing and flopping wildly in all directions. Her fingers rummaged through her messy desk. Underneath Laren’s breath, were grunts and unintelligent phrases.

“Where the blaze is it?”

Sito Jaxa twirled on her swivel chair, eyeing Laren lazily. It’s the fourth time in the week, her short-haired roommate slams the door. It’s a miracle the door hasn’t pop off from its socket.

Laren bumped her head against the upper bunk bed frame, scowling in their native language. It’s a thicker dialect, compared to Celes or hers. But Jaxa recognised a curse when she hears one. Laren’s vocabulary was limited, but her knowledge of cuss words were astounding.

“Try underneath your bed,” Jaxa supplied helpfully, sticking to her chair but directed a finger at the bunk bed.

Laren flattened herself on the floor, grabbed a round orange coloured sphere from underneath her bed, and bounced it against their wall. Each bounce, more force was exerted onto the ball.

Their bedroom door swung open, Tal Celes entered with large doe-like eyes that made her too precious for this world and their room. Her long dark-haired pinned in a bun, making her simultaneously looking like an old maid and a young child at the same time. An achievement as far as Celes could achieved something.

The orange ball ricocheted from the wall, whizzed through the air and nearly smashed at Celes’s face if she didn’t duck in time. “Oops, sorry about that,” Laren groaned, unapologetic.

Celes inched closer to Jaxa. Her large brown eyes studied Laren and the ball that nearly blinded her in one eye with curiosity and a burgeoning fear.

Laren flopped onto her bed, screaming into her pillow. A minute of silence passed, they exchanged looks. With an encouraging nod from Celes, Jaxa opened, “So, you want to talk about it?”

If glare could kill, they might be dead. But they’re not. So, Jaxa levelled her best motherly inquiring stare. Celes chose to make Jaxa a human shield.

Laren turned to lie on her back, pushing the pillow off from her face. She glowered at them. A standard annoyed Laren look.

“Nothing. It’s nothing,” she said, through clenched teeth.

“Nothing? _Nothing_ almost leave a dent on Celes’s face,” Jaxa replied, steepling her fingers together. Celes nodded in agreement, hugging her PADDs harder.

Laren sat straight up, her shoulders hunching. “I’m quitting the kayaking club next thing in the morning.”

“W-why? You wanted to join the club since day one,” Celes chimed in, moving to her desk. She lowered her PADDs and bag on it, carefully not to made loud noises.

Jaxa tried to hold in a sigh. It’s been two semesters and Celes still felt like she’s a guest, instead of their roommate. They were going to have another talk about that … _soon._

“I have _had_ it with the club’s president! That arrogant, smug, stupidly handsome, stubborn man-whore—”

Laren held her hands in front of her, squeezing the air as if she’s strangling someone in real time. Forgetting that she had an audience of two. It would have been disturbing if Laren doesn’t air her disgruntlement every other week, vocally and physically.

“—did you know he’s dating a different girl every week? What kind of character is that? To think that he could be the president while acting like some kind of Terran frat boy!”

“That’s not what I heard,” Celes mumbled, but neither Laren nor Jaxa paid any attention. Celes’s voice tended to fluctuate between inaudible and extremely soft.

Jaxa carved a Cheshire grin that grew bigger. “Stupidly handsome?” she asked, with a conspiratorial tone.

Laren rolled her eyes, seeing the childish taunting that never leaves either girl’s mouth, but hung in the air like an elephant. She brushed a stray lock of hair away from her face.

“He’s convinced that I will never rise up from the final place if I keep up with my frosty princess personality,” Laren responded. She tried to steer the conversation away from where it was going.

Jaxa tried to stifle a laugh threatening to escape. For someone who boasted a 20/20 vision, Laren seemed oblivious to her current situation. Meanwhile Celes handed Laren a headband. Laren took it, muttering a quick quiet thanks.

“Looks like someone has a _crush_ on her club’s president,” Sito stated.

Laren fixed the headband around her hair. Her ears turned bright red. “Do not! I will _never_ like a guy like him.”

Laren set her dark eyes on her two roommates, one smirking and the other staring with interest. “Weren’t you listening to a word I said?”

“We did, Laren.” Jaxa let out a sigh. Laren could be a drama queen. One that overdramatised everything. “What did he do this time? Singled you out for disobedience again?” Jaxa offered.

“No.”

“Told you that you row like a little girl, instead of a student of this academy?”

“No.”

“C-called you a nickname you didn’t like?” Celes crinkled her nose in a frown.

“No.”

“Then what?”

“He thinks that I should find another club if I can’t play nice with the other kayak members!” Laren exploded. She came to her feet and paced in their cramped quarters.

In their room, it meant she only took three steps away from her bed, heading for the singular window they have before returning to her bunk bed.

Celes skittered away from Laren’s path and dived to her locker, barricading herself from Laren’s fiery flaming walk.

“Ah, what did you do this time?” Jaxa crossed her arms, leaning to her chair. Her chair was a safe heaven. They’d established everyone’s bed and chair was a no shoving zone.

Laren’s angry outbursts had becoming something of a normal routine in their room. Celes doesn’t flinch anymore at the sound of Laren’s rising tone. Though occasionally she’d looked like she’d seen a ghost. They’re all works in progress.

“ _Nothing_!” Laren howled, jamming the heel of her wrist to her eyes socket.

Jaxa raised her brow up, a thin smile formed on her face. “Really?” The sarcasm tone wasn’t lost on Laren. Jaxa supposed she earned a glare from Laren fairly.

Laren was always a bit touchy (she rarely talked) about her love life. Jaxa was not ashamed to be actively nosy in her roommate’s affairs. Starfleet academy wasn’t exactly a place of romance to bloom in Jaxa’s case.

Celes unpinned her hair down, letting her long straight hair fall freely. “That’s not very nice of him,” she supplied thoughtfully, changing into comfortable clothing. Still keeping an eye on Laren for any sudden movements, Celes quickly slipped into a t-shirt.

“All I did was asked a Terran boy named Julian to paddle with me, not to splash the water _at_ me,” Laren snapped back, grappling the empty air in front of her, possibly imagining to strangle an invisible enemy.

“And?”

“There’s _no_ and! I only did that.”

“Yeah, and Celes here is a mathematics prodigy. No offence, Celes,” Jaxa shot an apologetic smile.

“None taken,” Celes answered, meekly. She kept herself close to Jaxa, weary eyes trained on Laren.

“I’m not buying it, Laren.”

“That Julian guy _cried_! That’s when _William_ decided I was bad for the team.” The name ‘William’ rolled from her tongue like it was some kind of disease. “It’s bad enough I got _William_ harping me about being unsociable. Julian and I scored _last_ place for the fifth time! That’s insane. I was the fittest among all the female club members.”

“Okay, _that_ I believe. Now, don’t tell me you’re going to quit because of him? Earlier this year, you were confident that Celes wouldn’t make it passed the two week mark and I would request another roommate.”

Behind Jaxa, Celes nodded her head vigorously. Celes had always been a lady of few words. Left all the talking to Jaxa. Not that she minded. Celes had the tendency to run her mouth without thinking.

“But look at us now. We’re co-existing together. You can play nice with people. It just takes time,” Jaxa continued. She gestured at Celes and herself, grinning.

Jaxa had a point. She always does. That made Laren both admired and resented her. Jaxa knew that. Laren knew that. Everyone in the room knew that. And they were still living.

“I see your point,” she mumbled, decided that the stray lint on her uniform was more important than looking up at the two Bajorans.

“Are you still going to quit, Laren?” Celes asked, a smile tugging the corners of her lips. A smile that Jaxa was almost certain she would never witness even if the Prophets bestowed a miracle to her.

Laren sighed. “No. I’m going to show _William_ that he’s wrong. And he’s going to wipe that stupid smirk off his face,” she replied, with utter conviction. The last sentence was directed to none in particular.

“That’s the spirit. Now, just be careful,” Jaxa quipped, prompting Laren to stare at her.

Celes turned to eye on Jaxa. “Of what?” Celes interjected, voicing the same question playing in Laren’s mind.

“I have a niggling feeling that William is into feisty girls. And you like boys who challenge you all the time. So, where two heads collide, sparks could fly,” said Jaxa, with a knowing smile.

“Me? And William? Never,” she fired back, harsher and a little too quickly that she preferred.

Jaxa tapped her chin thoughtfully, “What’s the Terran phrase, Celes? About the word ‘never’.”

“Never say never?” Celes supplied hopefully.

Jaxa snapped her fingers together. “That’s the one. Never say never, Laren.”

Laren huffed in annoyance, crossing her arms over her chest. “Even if the Prophets dictates that we were to wed. I would never.”

Celes and Jaxa exchanged looks. Both wore twining grins.

“If you say so, Laren.”

* * *

The next kayak club meeting, Ro Laren sat perched over a foldable stool. After yesterday's incident, she knew chances that Julian would want to get a new partner was sky high. Frankly, Julian was the least member that annoyed her in the club.

Kiara would have been perfect. But the Orion already her eyes set on Varok the Vulcan, tried her luck to get partnered with him. Varok didn’t mind Kiara and they ended up winning the kayak meet and dating, which Laren admitted that she didn’t see _that_ coming.

Laren wasn’t surprised that Skaas and Grok ended up being partners though. Their boat was bigger than the others. And they shared mutual dislike over Varok.

Between Morgan and Julian, at least the Egyptian boy had more strength compared to weak Morgan. Like it or not, she must do what she have to do. The knowledge didn’t quell the anxiety building in her guts.

Upon seeing Julian, she cornered him inside the shack. Well, she didn’t lay a finger on him. Her icy glare was enough to push him backwards into the shack.

“I-I apologised for the crying. I swear, it wasn’t because of you. I had sand in my eye.”

“We were a hundred metres away from the shore, Julian,” she snapped. Then, shaking her head, Laren took a deep, deep breath. “I know the truth.”

Julian immediately got to his knees, quicker than any men or boy she’d known. His hands clasped together in front of him. His head tucked lower. “I’m promise I won't cry again. Please, don’t hurt me! I beg you.”

“Hold up, Julian. I’m the one who supposed to apologise. I’m sorry for yelling at you yesterday.” She cleared her throat.

Another gulp of saliva. “I still prefer you to be my partner.”

Julian’s brown eyes were shining, with unshed tears. “You do?” He sounded touched by her admission. Which was exactly the reaction she’d hoping for.

“Yes. Now, I promised to no yell at you anymore. And if I did, I have to pay you ten credits. Deal?”

He nodded so vigorously, his curly hair flopping like a poodle running through a meadow. “Deal.”

“Now, we got another competition and someone owes me an apology as well.”

Sure enough, Laren and Julian paddled to the fourth place out of eight teams. Laren came close to cursing Julian several times, held it in for the sake of having the pleasure to wipe the stupid grin off William’s face.

Julian himself didn’t falter, despite Laren shooting him with her patterned scowls. His eyes were dry. A good sign of victory and impending friendship.

William stood by the side, square jaw dropped open. He raked his fingers through his dark hair, then slapped his own thigh. It was a look of disbelief, which Laren committed to her memory.

For the entire semester, they consistently won second place. Kiara and Varok undoubtedly won the first place. But it was okay. As long as she wasn’t the last place, she was content with the not-final place.

William? He never said the words she wanted to hear. Strangely, she didn’t mind at all. Laren finally had the chance to show off her gloating smirk at William.

And prophets, it was good.

* * *

Ro Laren enters the code to temporarily lock her door. Her roommate Ensign Sonya Gomez isn’t due back until the next shift. So, she wouldn’t be bothered by anyone yet.

Ro switches her PADD on, establishing a three way link communication at the agreed time. She waits until two faces coming into view. She can’t help but to smile (albeit still reluctantly) at her friends.

“Look at that! Someone got a promotion.” A blonde Bajoran, in a yellow and black uniform, bears the widest grin Ro remembers from another time.

“You got command track? That’s so cool!” exclaims another Bajoran, her long straight dark hair held in a bun on top of her head.

“It’s nothing. I just got a lot of the normal ensign work,” Ro answers, trying to keep the excitement away from her tone, but failing miserably.

“Better than both of us. I’m just a crewman. Sito’s at least on her way to getting ensign rank.”

The blonde-haired Bajoran leans closer to the screen, her green eyes scanning for Ro’s background, while the other dark-haired Bajoran squints her eyes. Ro holds her breath, letting them studying her background for a couple more seconds.

“Is that the USS Enterprise?” Sito Jaxa exclaims, at the same time Tal Celes goes, “Congratulations!”

Ro’s upper lip curls into a smile. A smile that hardly leaves the room she calls home.

She never guessed it was Tal who would remember, “Wait, Enterprise? Isn’t that where _William_ was stationed at?”

“Stupidly handsome, arrogant, stubborn, smug William? _That_ William?” Jaxa’s lips curling into a mischievous smirk.

“No, it was ‘arrogant, smug, stupidly handsome, stubborn, man-whore’ William,” Celes turns to Sito, “You forget the ‘man-whore’ part.”

Ro shakes her head, sighing. “That’s not the point.”

“Wait, you _slept_ with William, didn’t you?” Sito interrupts, the look on her face equals like a cat playing with her prey.

Not a single universe, alternate or parallel, would Ro want her dirty mess that called her love life to be known to the two girls she once shared a room with.

“What? _No_!”

If only Ro was a believable actress, they would fall for her denial.

“Denial is not a river in Egypt,” Celes chirps in, cheekier than she’d ever shown or be in the Voyager. Except in front of another William she known since the first day in the smaller starship.

Neither Celes nor Sito could forget the mortifying performance she gave for their class as Juliet in a classic Terran literature. The less they remembered about that, the better.

“Oh, you can’t lie to us.” Sito waggled a finger in front of her. “Four long years in that cramped room. I know when you had your itch scratched or not,” Sito adds.

“Jaxa! Not here, Celes is here!” Ro’s glare hardly softens since she left the academy.

“Hey, I’m old enough. I got assigned to USS Voyager, not a star base,” Tal replies, pride leaking out from her words.

“We’re getting off topic,” Sito apologises, with that maniacal glint in her green eyes.

“Thank you. Now, you won’t believe that I’m working along with Lieutenant Commander Data! The android we read in the aca-”

“How was it? Did William satisfy?” Sito interlaces her fingers together, mimicking old Terran movies’ comic villain. Ro knows that Sito’s mining this new information for what’s it worth.

“Was it hot? Steamy? We want details,” Tal adds, earnestly curious rather than playful.

“I”-she lets out a heavy sigh-“it happened when everyone on board lost their memories,” she admits, ears turning bright red. She dutifully explains the whole debacle that left her deeply embarrassed whenever they’re alone together in the turbolift.

Sito’s brows nearly disappears into her hairline, lifting an unimpressed brow. “It was a one-time thing only?” She sounded so _utterly_ disappointed.

Tal is undeterred by the revelation. “Was it a memorable one night stand?”

“Not exactly a one night stand thing either.” She swallows her saliva. “We kept doing it until we recovered our memories,” she replies, sheepishly.

“Was it at least memorable for you?” Sito echoes Celes’s unanswered question.

There’s no point in lying. Might as well spill the truth. So Ro replies, “It was the best sex I’d ever had while I was on the Enterprise.”

The last thing Ro remembers is Celes howling with congratulations and Sito singing a tune that involves a tree, kissing and spelling out alphabets. But it was worth the embarrassment and to see two faces familiar to her.

She laughs out too. Much to her surprise. Time stops for Ro. Just for once, it’s good to have friends again.

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this years ago after a Star Trek TNG and Voyager marathon. And wondered what it would be like to have all three Bajorans as roommates. This came out instead.


End file.
